Cold Stolen Breath
by darksupernatural
Summary: For Marianna Morgan and all my awesome reviewers wanting more.  Bobby has been part of Sam's life for almost as long as he can remember. Pulling him out of danger more than once. Can Bobby save Sam this time? one shot


**A/N: BLATANTLY IGNORES WHAT DEAN SAID TO THE LITTLE BOY IN 'DEATH TAKES A HOLIDAY' ABOUT COLD TRIGGERING ASTHMA. This would be set just after Dean turns 16. Sam would still be 11. Written at the request of Marianna Morgan for more asthmatic Sam and a build off Bobby's memory in my last one shot "No Breath to Catch". Helps to read that but you don't have to. **

**Hope you enjoy a little more Hero!Bobby, my friend! There's just a touch of caring Dean in this one like you asked for. **

**Disclaimer: Don't own them, just enjoy the heck out of bashing them!**

Cold March sunlight glinted off the frost lining the windshields of the junkyard's automotive occupants. Rusted hulks of pieced out cars, as well as not so rusted restorations-in-progress sat beneath thin white blankets, silent except for the sound of laughter.

Sam circled the lanky puppy, laughing as the future junkyard dog nipped at his heels. Rumsfeld tripped over his big brown feet and fell against Sam's legs, the bulk of the mutt taking him to his backside on the cold ground. "Rummy, you're a klutz!" Sam laughed and pushed the puppy off his legs, trying to keep the beast in training from licking his fingers. Sam wiped his digits on his pants as doggy drool coated his knuckles, quickly cooling and making his fingers cold. The puppy jumped and tried to lick Sam's face eliciting more giggles from the eleven year old.

"Sam." Bobby called from the porch, catching Sam's attention. Rumsfeld got a good lick up Sam's cheek before the puppy got pushed off again and Sam's stood, brushing frost and dust off his pants. "Your dad just called. Says he an' Dean are gonna be out another day. I went ahead and asked him to bring in that big GMC for me that Pastor Jim found. Didn't figure you'd mind too much." The older hunter added, watching as Sam ambled toward him, the pup biting the back of Sam's pants leg and trying to trip him up, wanting to keep playing in the cool morning air.

"It saves you and dad from having to go get it later this week. And I know Dean will jump at the chance to drive the Impala. I don't mind."

"You want lunch?" Bobby asked, pushing the door wide and allowing the youngster to skirt by him. The puppy followed, stopping when Bobby cleared his throat. When the dog looked up at his master hopefully, Bobby grinned. "C'mon in, ya mutt. Keep your paws off the table."

The dog wagged his docked tail so furiously that his whole body shook side to side, then bounded into the kitchen after Sam. Bobby gave the junkyard outside the house a quick once over before turning back into the house.

He stopped short when he heard a phone ring. Checking the bank of "agency" phones along the wall he saw the third one light up. "Damn Rufus." Bobby said. He answered the phone in a brusque tone. "Agent Thomas speaking." Bobby listened before speaking again.

"And you say the case is in Toledo?"

"My agent on scene is from the Columbus office, son. If I recall, _that gives him jurisdiction_." Bobby slammed the phone back into it's cradle. He had just taken a step towards his kitchen, intent on getting Sam a sandwich when he heard a thump, followed by Rumsfeld's anxious whine. "Kid, you better not be feedin that dog." Bobby called good-naturedly. Receiving no answer he tried again. "Sam?"

Worried now, Bobby barged through the doorway. "Sam!"

The youngster was lying on the linoleum floor with the puppy crowding him, whining and nudging his shoulder with a tan nose. The only other sound was a high pitched gasp coming from Sam. Bobby slid to his knees and pushed the pup aside. "Sammy?" Bobby wrapped a warm hand around the back of Sam's neck, lifting his head from the floor. "Kid, where's your inhaler?"

"Up-upstairs," Sam wheezed, eyes rolling towards the ceiling.

"Rum, stay!" Bobby said, standing and bolting for the stairs, taking them three at a time. The pup laid down at Sam's side and began licking furiously at his fingers. Another wheeze rattled Sam as he weakly pulled his fingers out of the puppy's mouth and buried them in his soft dark fur. Rumsfeld put his nose on Sam's leg, watching his pale face. The pup nudged him, whining, every time his eyes threatened to close.

Bobby thundered down the stairs, sliding to a halt on his knees at Sam's side again. He hauled Sam none too gently up into his arms and slid the inhaler between Sam's blue tinged, slack lips. Rumsfeld whimpered as if to encourage him to breathe. "C'mon kid." Bobby shook him. Finally Sam's eyelids fluttered and his lips twitched, trying to close around the inhaler. Bobby took that as a start and pressed on the dispenser, knowing that he wasted some of the medication, but needing Sam to get _something _into his laboring lungs.

"Kid, ya gotta do this." Bobby cooed. Sam's gasp and the pup's whine were the only sounds in the room. Bobby urged Sam to try again and he finally closed his lips around the inhaler. Bobby wasted no time pressing on the cartridge again. Sam drew in a high pitched wheeze that almost matched Rumsfeld's cry.

"Atta boy." Sam's eyes opened, rolling around. Bobby caught his attention. "One more time, Sam. C'mon kid." Sam nodded weakly and Bobby pressed the canister again, at the same time the youngster pulled in a breath. Bobby dropped the device and pulled Sam up into his arms, rubbing his back and tucking his head under his own chin, hair catching on Bobby's beard. He waited silently until Sam's breathing eased and began to sound normal.

"Thanks, Bobby." Sam finally whispered.

"Aw, kid." Bobby hugged the boy tighter and then lifted him, walking towards his couch. He put Sam down on the cushions that were old before Sam was born and tugged a throw blanket up over him. "You breathin' easier?"

"Yeah." Sam replied quietly, snuggling into the cushions. Bobby smoothed back Sam's hair.

"You rest then. I'll make your sandwich when you feel up to it." Bobby stepped back from the couch and tripped over the bundle of fur as he wiggled between Bobby's legs and the couch. Rumsfeld looked at Sam then up at Bobby.

"Okay." Bobby said, a small smile tipping up the corners of his mustache. "But don't get used to it." The pup yipped happily and jumped up on the couch and laid down on Sam's feet. "Little idjit." Bobby ruffled the puppy's fur and sat down in the chair. Bobby sighed raggedly, yanking his hat off his head and rubbing his fingers over his face. Bobby watched Sam fall asleep, chest rising and falling rhythmically.

"You really know how to scare a bastard, kiddo," the older hunter whispered.

Bobby jumped awake when Rumsfeld jumped down from the couch and scampered toward the door, barking his puppy head off. "Rum!" Bobby called, going after the dog. Dean was on the other side of the door, fending off the puppy, who was attacking his boots, hackles raised. The Impala sat parked crooked in the driveway, engine still ticking in the cool morning.

"Dean?"

"Where's Sammy?"

"He's fine. He's sleepin'."

"I woke up this mornin with this awful feeling…" Dean shoved past Bobby into the house, stopping short when Sam walked into the foyer, the blanket wrapped around his shoulders, scrubbing at his eyes with a fist.

"I'm okay now, Dean."

"What happened Sammy?" Dean asked, going to his side and wrapping an arm around his shoulders.

"I was outside playing and it was cold. I came inside and I didn't feel good. Bobby made me feel better."

"Dean, where's your daddy and that truck."

"He tuned it up and it's running great. Let me come on ahead of him because of Sammy. Says he's thinking about buying it from you." Dean turned back to Sam.

"You sure you're okay?"

"Yeah, Dean."

"Okay." Dean squeezed Sam's shoulders again. Rumsfeld barreled into Dean, shoving him away with his head and shoulders and whatever he could, wrapping himself around Sam's legs.

"Goofy mutt." Dean muttered

"He's a good dog." Sam said, a small smile playing with his lips.

**A/N: The End.**

**On another note, I have something in my head that I would love to pass on. Being full on crazy, my brother and I broke into an old abandoned house near my place last summer and snapped pics in the dark, wondering about the creepy feel to the place and came up with some freaky stuff. Blue Peanut wrote a fantastic story about the place. Got a weird pic out of the whole thing and want to show someone who would be willing to take a look and run with a fic for me. I can tell you all about the place, just go to this website **

http:(space)/(space)/(space) darksupernatruraljournal.(space)webs(space).com

**And take a look at the pic**. **Just take the (space) out of the web site and you know what to do! Drop me a PM if you wanna do the fic for me.**


End file.
